


Connect

by sasha_b



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Adorable Baby Yoda (The Mandalorian TV), Baby Yoda POV, Baby Yoda and Din are a clan of two, Din is a good daddy, Feelings, Gen, Missing Scene, Post-Season/Series 01, emoting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-08
Updated: 2020-02-08
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:06:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22607467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sasha_b/pseuds/sasha_b
Summary: Din and the child's bond is irrevocable.Five vignettes.
Relationships: Baby Yoda & The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)
Comments: 26
Kudos: 232





	Connect

**Author's Note:**

> These are a few missing scenes and then post season one one-shots. They do stitch together if you so choose.

1.

The child watches the man who’s taken him from his captors as he lays on the ground, out cold.

The trundling conveyance that holds the little creatures in brown rumbles out of view, the overwhelming noise and size of the thing vast and enormous and he’s glad when it’s gone.

The sky is a brilliant blue and the sand that fills most of the horizon around them seems a perfect cushion for his little feet as he slips easily out of the carrier he’s in. He waddles up to the man – his new captor, but this one seems more kind than the others – and chirps gently as he leans over the man’s masked face. The sun reflects off the armor that covers it, and the child reaches out a hand and prods the man gently, once, then twice.

Nothing.

“ _Meh_?” he says again, and touches at the man’s shoulder this time. When the armored stranger still doesn’t move, he cheerups a little more loudly, and raises the hand that’s been pushing at the man.

His eyes close.

The man is close to wakefulness; he can feel his mind stirring, even as the electric bolts that had knocked the man off the big crawler still spark and glow over the man’s armor. He’s

_What is happening_

_Who is this kid_

_What am I doing_

_The droid wanted to kill him. That won’t happen_

_My SHIP_

_I need help_

_No._

_No!_

The child’s eyes pop open before he can begin to help the man, and he scurries back to the floating cradle, and he’s up and into it (with a little help from the energy-friends that have always helped him) before the man sits up surprisingly fast, with a groan that echoes through the huge canyon they’re at the edge of.

The light winks off the helmet again, and the child knows the sun will be sinking soon, and they need to get to some sort of safety before then, otherwise there are things in this place and on this planet that the man doesn’t want to see. Even without the child being able to warn him – he has a feeling the man probably knows it.

“They’re gone, huh.”

The child burbles a reply; the man shakes his head and groans again. “Okay, get up,” he adds, and the child figures he’s not talking to him. The man rises; sand flying everywhere from the clothing that is exposed by the armor, and it creates a small storm that hides the man for a moment.

The child cocks his head and his ears go up when the man approaches through the dust and the wind, and he opens his eyes wide and peeps a noise that has the man shaking his head again.

“Any ideas?”

“ _Eh_.”

“Me neither.”

The man turns back the way they’d come, and after pushing some buttons on his gauntlet, the little cradle with the strange child in it follows silently.

2.

The child toddles over to the man after the woman has set him on the ground, and he looks up at his protector, his guardian, and puts his hands out, grasping the man’s leg as he looks up and babbles out words the man can’t understand.

Nevertheless, the man leans over and picks the child up, his gloved hands warm and now familiar around the child’s small tunic clad body. He’s sore and very, very tired after what he’d done to get rid of the dangerous man with the flame, and he feels the sadness they all do – the energy-friends whisper in his ear that the humans experience the same emotions he does in regards to the nanny – which makes him even more exhausted.

But he wants to be near the man, his guardian, and he is very, very glad when the man holds him tightly in his grip, the man’s hand holding his, and he squeaks at the woman and the other man as they touch his ear gently. He feels they are going their separate ways, but maybe not forever. The armored man is warm and his heart is beating quickly; his voice rumbles in the child’s body, and he is home and safe and he squawks once more as the man ignites the thing he wears on his back and they are in the air, and he looks over the man’s shoulder as he watches the others recede.

He likes the woman. She’s funny and hurt too, and the child wants to help her. He hopes he’ll see her again.

When they arrive back at the ship, the man takes care of the body of the Ugnaut, and the child is sad once more, cooing softly as his guardian finishes the cairn and they both return to the man’s ship. The Ugnaut was kind, and the child will miss him and his funny, stilted speech. He won’t miss the weird creatures they’d ridden on, though, and he lets his protector set him in the extra seat as he pushes the wonderful, shiny buttons – the energy-friends giggle as he is filled with desire to touch all of them; maybe the man will let him soon.

“What do you have there?”

The child has taken out the pendant the woman had put around his neck for safekeeping when they’d thought the man might not make it. He’s holding it at his mouth, feeling the cool of the metal against it, and the man takes it gently in his grasp, telling the child he didn’t think he’d see it again.

“Why don’t you hold on to this?”

He hands it back to the child, and he puts it into his mouth, the comfort of contact and the warmth that the man’s hand had left on his skin lingering, his bruises aching but fading, his strength slowly returning.

The ship lifts off, and the child sucks on the necklace, and after a bit, he slowly slips down from the chair, approaching his guardian. The stars streak by, and the man is slumped back against the chair.

The child slides up into his lap, unaided mostly, and he leans against the man’s armor plated chest, and the man slowly puts his hand out. The child takes it into his own grasp and pulls it to his front, and the man sighs and lets his head lean against the chair with a _thunk_.

The child calls to the energy-friends without a worry or thought, and he squeezes at the man’s hand, and the man’s shoulders and body relaxes, and while it makes the child’s exhaustion rear its head again, he’s fine with that, as he has discovered – a few weeks ago, really – that he loves this man that seems to want to take care of him, and he’ll be tired for him, no matter the cause.

He’s the only one since – the child tilts his head, desperately trying to remember, but he just _can’t_ – well, the man cares, and has proven he’s willing to do anything to keep the child safe, and that equates with love and safety, in the child’s book.

He chirps and pulls the hand at his chest closer. He closes his eyes and the man sighs and his body seems to unwind further under the child, and the child is not surprised when the man makes a few sounds that resemble coughs, but are accompanied by a wet noise that the child associates with sorrow.

They sit for a while, quietly, as the man continues to make the wet sounds, the child holding onto his hand tightly, his eyes closed still. The white streaks pass by the viewport in the cockpit, and at last the child opens his eyes when the man’s noises have stopped for several minutes. He babbles out, turning his head to look at the man’s helmeted face.

“ _Ah_.”

“Yeah?”

The man clears his throat, and it sounds rough and fatigued but the tone makes the child love the man all the more, especially when the man sits up, pushes some of the awesome buttons, and stands with him.

“Time to eat, buddy.”

When they reach the small kitchen, the child oohs over the bread that the man heats up for them both, and he continues to hold on to the necklace he wears as the man breaks off bites for him, the two of them sitting together in the hold of the ship.

3.

A few weeks later, the man is sitting at the table in the hold, his helmeted head in his hands.

The child has made multiple attempts to get his attention, but the man is acting strangely; the energy-friends whisper to the boy that he’s feeling des-pon-dant. The child isn’t exactly sure what that is, but when he shuts his eyes briefly and reaches out, this feels like it had when the man had made the coughing and wet sounds.

He aches, and he’s tired, and his head aches, and the child is worried for the man, his guardian and his – what is the sound the man makes when he talks about himself to the child –

Din.

The child doesn’t know that word, but he has begun to associate it with the man, so when the man that calls himself _Din_ won’t respond to the child, the boy’s worry amps up and he rises from his seat on the floor of the ship, where he’s been playing with a few toys, levitating them up and down as he giggles at them. His friends that no one can see (but him; they are green and blue and purple and red and black and they laugh with him and sorrow with him and live with his heart and mind and the child loves them too) are quiet as the child approaches the man, and he tugs at the man’s pant leg, near the thing that circles ‘round the man’s calf, the metal shiny and pretty and he reaches out, and the man suddenly is aware and shouts _NO_ as he grabs the child up into a rough embrace.

The child shrieks in surprise at the quickness of the man’s movements; the man is shaking and he holds the child out at arm’s length, as his helmeted face is only a few inches from the child’s own.

“Don’t EVER touch those. They’re dangerous. You can hurt someone, or yourself, if you drop them or something goes wrong with them. They’re weapons, for me, only. Do you understand??”

The child’s ears flatten against the sides of his head, and his shriek turns to a whine, and then a sad, snorting sob that he can’t stop. He jerks in his guardian’s hold, and he tries to curl into a ball even as his Din tries to still hold him out and look him in the face. He makes the snorting sob again, and the man sighs hugely, and brings him to his chest, where he cradles the child in a loose grip. “They’re dangerous,” he says again. “I only want you to be safe. Okay? Safe. I’ll care for you, I promise. You just have to be careful.”

The ears still lay flat against his head, but he feels the man’s worry and agitation through his own fear and surprise, and he lifts a hand and touches the man’s (Din’s) chest at the edge of the armor. He can feel the Din’s heart beating quickly, and he wills all the strength and love he has for this man, his guardian, into the Din’s mind and soul and the man jerks and cocks his head as he looks down at the child.

“What are you – ”

The child babbles softly, and the Din sighs again (the child is used to that noise, very much), and he gently takes the child’s hand away from his chest and holds it against the armor instead, wrapped in his gloved grip.

“You’re full of surprises.”

The child coos.

“I…I,” the man stumbles over his words, and the child can feel the emotion etched into the man’s heart. He smiles and babbles more when he feels the attachment and … the Din seems to love him. That’s what he’d hoped for, and he giggles and shows his teeth, and the man makes a noise that seems to be a tiny laugh as well.

The child fumbles his mythosaur pendant out from under his tunic and holds it up, his soft babble becoming a louder blat of excitement as he shows his guardian the thing. He loves it, and he lays his head suddenly against the Din’s armored chest, and the man holds him as the child plays with the necklace, the man’s mood one that the child can’t read as well this time.

4.

Din yawns for the third time, and that makes him angry.

They’re almost to their destination, a small, out of the way planet that doesn’t have a starport or any kind of major city presence, and he’s happy to have found it.

He’s exhausted, though, as he’s been pushing himself to the brink with running drills with the Rising Phoenix every chance he can get. The child has been watching him, kicking his little feet and screaming in joy every time Din has successfully landed the thing without falling or stumbling or doing anything stupid. Every time it makes him smile under the beskar, even though the kid can’t see it. So he pushes himself harder, because it’s very important to get it right, so he can use the thing to his and the kid’s advantage.

He hopes he won’t have to, but better safe than – yeah, yeah.

The kid has been pretty quiet for the past day or so, and Din wonders if something is going on that he’s not privy to. Granted, it’s not like the kid speaks Basic to him, but he’s gotten to the point that he can understand some of what he thinks the kid wants or needs.

He gets the noise for food, for playtime, for sleep (all kids are annoying and grumpy at sleep, from his limited experience) and for cuddling, which most of the time makes him roll his eyes, but he finds that it brings some semblance of peace to him.

That in and of itself is odd; Din has been a loner a long time, and he’s mostly fine with that, but –

A small klaxon goes off on the control panel, and he jerks his head to the thing as they come out of hyperspace and there’s the planet he’s selected in front of them.

He sets in the landing coordinates and turns to tell the kid they’re almost there, but the kid isn’t in the chair or his little cradle.

Din cocks his head and stands.

“Kid?”

He wavers; he’s stood too quickly, and his yawn splits his head and he curses under his breath. “Come on; I don’t have time to play, right now.”

He stumbles over his own feet; maybe he’s more tired than he’d thought.

“Kid!”

“ _Mah_!”

Din sighs (man, he shouldn’t have done that. The heavy breath has made him dizzy.) and he staggers to the ladder as the ship pilots itself down, the thrusters making him lean unexpectedly to the wall. He’s damn tired.

“Come on,” he says again as the ship shudders back and forth; it lands with a jolt and Din trips over a box that’s shifted in flight and he sees the kid’s green ears sticking up behind the container that holds his spanners and supplies for working on the ship. “Not the best hiding place, buddy,” he states almost tetchily; the kid pops his head out and giggles at the sight of Din staring down at him, resting his hands on his hips.

The engines hiss out excess steam and built up condensation and he leans over and picks up the kid, almost falling forward with his momentum. The kid squawks and flails out a hand as Din rights himself.

“Okay,” he murmurs. “No more practice today.”

The kid blats a noise that sounds like an agreement, and Din rolls his eyes. “Never mind,” he says. “I’m fine.” He squares his shoulders and grabs his small pack, slipping the kid into the sling he’s fashioned from an older cloak he doesn’t use anymore. “Let’s hit it.”

The ramp on the ship’s starboard side slides open, and Din hears the grit in the gears as it does. He’ll have to find out if this place has a maintenance facility before they leave.

“But first, sleep.”

He looks around the clearing where they’ve landed. Pretty, he thinks, but he’s reminded of Sorgan suddenly and he’s biting his cheek as he pushes a bit too hard at the controls on his vambrace to close the ramp to the ‘Crest.

The child makes a sound, and Din looks at him as they stride through the foliage, toward the small amount of buildings he can see in the distance. He yawns again and the child –

The child feels light in his hold. It’s like he’s not hanging from the sling anymore –

Din feels –

He yawns and stumbles over a root in his path –

He’s dizzy; he doesn’t remember being this tired in a long time. Not since the head injury on Nevarro –

The child squeaks –

Din feels as though someone is holding him up under his armpits.

He’s not – he’s tired, but it’s like he’s running on 36 hours straight of watch and battle, and his vision is hazy but crystal clear, and the kid’s hands are on his chest and he can feel their heat through the beskar and he’s standing straight and his bag and Amban rifle feel weightless and he stops, plopping to a fallen tree by the side of the path they’re on.

“What are you doing?”

The baby’s eyes are _liquidbrowncrystalhuge_ and Din shakes his head. The trees waver and the breeze is soft and comforting and all he wants to do is lay down but the kid touches him again and he’s standing without his say so.

“Kid.”

He tightens all of his muscles and then releases them.

He does this three times, and takes deep breaths and he’s awake, able to focus and he looks down at the kid and the sun reflects his helmeted face in the kid’s gaze.

“Stop. It’s okay. I’ll be okay.”

The kid chirps in worry, and Din shakes his head (slowly this time). “No. I take care of you, remember? It takes too much out of you.”

The kid coos, and pops a knuckle into his mouth. Din sits down again, and realizes –

He _feels_ suddenly.

He looks at the kid, and the kid looks at him. Din trembles once, and the kid touches his thigh with his free hand. The sun at their backs is warm and perfect, and the ‘Crest is only a few yards away, and Din _feels_ and he has to swallow hard at the intensity of the emotion.

“Okay,” he whispers. The modulator on the helmet crackles with the word. “I get it.”

He’s washed over with worry and love and safety and –

He wavers to his feet, and he lifts the kid out of the sling, and he takes him in a hold close to his heart, and he stands and walks to the town, the only thing that matters now in his grasp and the kid pushes feeling after feeling at him, and Din wonders just how long he can live like this and not become a different man.

5.

The child’s eyes squint; the blanket is over his face, and he doesn’t remember how long it’s been since the cradle has been opened.

The two things – one man, one droid – that stare down at him feel new and exciting and he’s not catching everything they’re projecting, but he tries and he sits up in the egg shaped container, and the droid is suddenly pointing something at him, and the man raises his hand, and there’s a flash of light and sound –

And the man with armor over his face leans over him, his hand slowly coming toward the child, and the child cocks his head, and –

_It’s a bounty_

_It’s a child._

_A bounty, nothing more_

_It’s a CHILD._

_What is it?_

_It’s weak and small_

_I can’t leave it here._

_It’s a bounty._

_Child_

The child squeaks and touches his hand to the man’s, his new captor.

But this man seems different, despite his tough exterior, and his shiny armor and his guns, and when the man brings him along in the cradle and he sees all the other captors are dead in the bright, hot sun, his ears collapse against his head briefly.

The energy-friends catch and amplify his fear, and the armored man turns.

“Awfully small for so much trouble.”

The child blats a noise, and the man shrugs. The sun is warm and alien on the child’s face; he’s been inside and hidden for so long, its presence is welcomed and strange all at once. The friends dance around him, and then around the man, who shivers suddenly but continues walking. The child gurgles and the cradle follows the man out into the desert, the man’s gait one of surety and the child wonders if this one might be the one he can trust.

The energy-friends whisper to him, and he nods and coos; the man turns to look at him, but the child merely looks back with raised ears and a plain expression on his tiny face.

He’ll keep his discovery about this man and his true self a secret, for now.

They walk.

~

**Author's Note:**

> Have I mentioned I hate summaries?
> 
> Thank you again for all the support and any read/comment/kudos/whatever on my writing and especially in this fandom. I really like slice-of-life-stuff and this fandom hits all my buttons for h/c as well.
> 
> This is the way! xo


End file.
